Retroactive Surfaces
by lye tea
Summary: Reflections on Ruo Xi's relationship with each of the princes.
1. The Thirteenth

**The Thirteenth**

She could never tell him that somewhere, sometime, far away (called America) that the number thirteen would be considered a curse. He would laugh at her, think her crazy, and ask just what the hell this "America" is. After all (she carefully reminds herself) this is Qing China, and she is Maertai Ruo Xi.

And so, she looks at him fondly from a distance and tries not to think (to remember) how soon his life will end, how quick and tragic everything will be. In three hundred years, they will all be reduced to insignificance—a line in a textbook, dust in history.

"Ruo Xi…are you well?"

Instinctively, her hand travels to her abdomen. He pretends not to notice, slyly averting his gaze. Ruo Xi laughs softly and squeezes the edge of his sleeve. In the end, he is still the one who knows her best.


	2. The Fourth

**The Fourth**

He sips the tea meticulously, savoring the changing of tones as they shift from sweet to tart. He does everything meticulously. Shrewd, calculating, cold. He is worse than ice, something that can't be melt or scorched or touched. He is impeccable in all that he does.

Perfect.

A god.

He can make no mistake.

For a moment, he closes his eyes and dreams of magnolias and summer rain. He can hear the sharp sound of crickets, feel the lush of willow branches. And then, just as abrupt, he stands. Court will be adjourning soon.

...

Shi San Di is surprised to see him. Lingering. _Oh, is that so?_ Conscientious—almost.

But he will not help Ruo Xi. That will be mortal (fatal).

...

"Si Ge, I suspect you're purposely losing to me. Why?"

Smiling, Yin Zhen examines the _weiqi_ piece. He flicks it over and strokes its smooth underbelly. "That's where you and I differ, Shi San Di. You are a good soldier, groomed for battle. But I am not that way. A thousand battles won cannot guarantee the war; yet a single move can determine the world."

"But how much longer will you wait? Ruo Xi and—"

"Endure and watch. And the pieces will fall into their natural place."

Amazed, Yinxiang watches as the eunuch declares his brother the winner of their game.

...

_She has suffered for so long_, he tells himself. A little longer will not make a difference.

...

Ruo Xi does not ask him about the coup though she suspects (he guessed that she somehow already knew). Every night, she welcomes him with a cup of tea and a half-bitten smile, curling to rot. And every morning, she pretends to sleep as he kisses her cheek.

One day, he swears, he will tell her everything. Explain his actions and make amends (those which had long been buried and flayed). But for now, they will continue to play this tug, this push and pull, this exquisite pursuit of fear and dread.

"The moon is bright tonight."

_Ah. So it is. _

...

She prays that the child is a girl.

(Prays that it will die, to not know sorrow.)

...

He is devastated when the physician tells him that she can never bear children. And then, he remembers all the struggles he and his brothers have experienced (have yet to contend). And so, reluctantly, he allows himself a small smile as he holds her.

But Ruo Xi does not cry. She doesn't need his comfort (forsaken, they fall deaf). She keeps her laments, her secret woes and hopes, entirely sealed. In a place that he can never breach.

_I will never tell. Don't even try. _

"Then I won't either."

...

Slow and gradual, she locks away the presents he's given her. Each one is delicate and unique, a beautiful memento of a far-off day.

As she interns the jade pin, softened whiter and whiter by the years, she remembers the magnolia tree that stood (will stand) outside her apartment. With branches that span three rooflines, stretching high into the bloody horizon.

And remembers, painful and shrill, that her name is—


	3. The Ninth

**The Ninth**

_That one, he is sly._

Shi San Ye warns her, a slow, powerful whisper lashing her ear. Ruo Xi hurries around, desperate to catch a glimpse of this serpent, that infamous fox, the putrid, gangrenous dog. And suave, smooth, perfectly rehearsed, Jiu Ye turns around and flashes a crisp, white smile.

He is discreet not to be remiss (guarantees that she enjoys a front-row view).

"Ruo Xi, I heard from Ba Ge that you like pears. I had these delivered all the way from Yunnan. Why don't you try some?"

Sweet, she returns his smile and allows him to slip a slice into her mouth. "Thank you, Jiu Ye."

Complacent, she anticipates as his smirk recedes.

...

It is painful (vexing) watching his esteemed older brother fall head over heels for that girl. Ba Ge thinks Ruo Xi is a goddess from a distant world, full of charm and wit and that sickening kindness. But Yin Tang isn't naïve like his honorable brother.

He can always spot the other snakes.

...

"Do you remember the day Ruo Xi entered the palace?"

"Of course, Ba Ge."

"I can still see her face, the rosy fabric of her dress. I can't believe it's been a whole year already. Everything is still so clear in my mind."

"Then I don't have to remind Ba Ge that she did not look back. Not even once."

"No. That wouldn't be in her nature."

...

She does not intentionally serve Jiu Ye last.

He is the youngest of the company present. She is only following their (antiquated) customs.

She is not afraid of him.

(Slightly shaky, Ruo Xi brings Yin Tang his tea. Quickly, she retrieves her hand before he can bite.)


End file.
